Brewing up Love
by T. Fowler
Summary: Severus Snape does not fall in love. Until he does. Snape/OFC
1. Chapter 1

He didn't notice her first year. Of course he didn't; she was eleven and he wasn't a monster.

Except that wasn't exactly true. Severus had noticed the Ravenclaw girl that first year, hadn't he? Not with any prurient interest but because she was noticeable.

The first time he noticed her was the first Quidditch game of the season. While every first year and most of the school was at the match, she was curled up in a window nook, book and quill in hand.

"What are you doing, Miss Stevenson? Why aren't you at the game?" he demanded, letting her know by his tone that he suspected she was up to no good.

She looked up and, inexplicably, smiled as if she was glad to see him. "Good afternoon, Professor. My parents sent me a book of anagrams." She held up the books. "I wanted to do some."

He raised his eyebrows. "Instead of being with your friends?"

She shrugged. "I don't really like sports."

"You're Muggle born. You've never even seen Quidditch played."

She sighed. "I suppose it's an experience, then. One I'll regret if I miss?" She sounded as if she were repeating something she'd heard many times before.

Severus was sorry he'd started the conversation. He had no real desire to make her go to the event. He'd only come over to make sure she wasn't plotting some mischief. He'd simply been point out facts.

"Your puzzles will still be there after the match. And… I suppose it is an experience. Your house is playing."

She sighed and closed her book. "Very well." She sounded resigned. With another sigh, she slid off the bench and stood next to him.

He frowned down at her.

She smiled sweetly. "Aren't you going too? We can walk together."

"You don't want to walk with me," he said harshly.

Her face fell. "Oh. All right." Head down, she started shuffling away.

Irritation rose in him. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he fell into step next to her.

Her face lit up and she reached out for his hand.

"No."

The girl nodded. With a happy expression, she and Severus walked to the Quidditch pitch together.

#

Fourth year, he paid her no mind until the day before they left for winter holidays. The holiday always put Severus in a foul mood, and this year was no different. Indeed, this year was somewhat worse. The weather was gloomy, but it wasn't quite cold enough to snow. Instead, it sleeted, and a grey slush was everywhere. He was cold, wet, and miserable.

So, when the girl made a mistake on her potion, he let loose with a torrent of insults. He called her a simple-minded fool, asked if her ears were stuffed with cotton, implied her birth was a result of an ill-advised match, and questioned her place at the school.

The girl just gazed up at him, expression somber. When he was done with her tirade, she nodded and said, "What must I do to get it right next time?"

"Try not to be an idiot," he snapped.

She looked as if she was suppressing a smile. "Of course. And besides that? What did I actually do wrong?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head. "If I did, I wouldn't have messed up."

He gritted his teeth. "If you're really so interested in finding out, you can come back after supper and redo the lesson."

Inexplicably, her face lit up. "Thank you, Professor." Then, she gathered up her belongings and practically skipped out of the room.

He stared after her, flabbergasted.

"What a nutter," a student muttered.

"Who thanks a professor them detention?" another said.

"Mad Marissa, that's who."

Severus glared at them, angry that he was offended on her behalf. He hadn't officially given her detention, exactly. He'd been bluffing. He didn't want to spend the evening in the company of a fifteen-year-old girl. But, he'd dared her and she'd accepted. Now he had to go.

That night, after dinner, he went back to the classroom. The girl was already there, sitting on the flood, studying her potions textbook. When he walked up, she looked up at him and smiled.

"Thank you for letting me try again. I think I know what I did wrong but want to be sure."

"I won't change your grade if you get it right," he told her sourly.

Her smile faltered, but she nodded. "I understand. I guess it wouldn't be fair to change my grade and not give anyone else a chance. I'm not the only person who messed up. At least I have a chance to learn."

He looked at her incredulously. "Are you mocking me?"

She blinked, long golden eyelashes veiling her eyes for a moment. "No, Professor," she said, sounding astonished. "It's only that my father always says that failure is the first step on the road to success."

"Then your father is a fool."

She arched an eyebrow. "Then Edison didn't find hundreds of ways not to make a lightbulb only to eventually succeed?" Then she shook her head. "Oh, never mind. It's a Muggle thing."

He wanted to snap that he very well understood the reference but held his tongue. Instead, he opened the door and stalked inside.

She followed and took her usual place. Without a word, she unpacked her bag and started working. Severus ignored her and picked up a stack of scrolls to grade.

But, as the evening went on, it became harder to ignore her. First, she hummed as she chopped the ingredients. Second, she talked to herself as she measured, checking and rechecking her measurements against the book. Indeed, she would even say, "Check," when she was sure she was correct.

Then, there were her hands. While the rest of her was all awkward teen—oily hair and acne on her cheeks and forehead—her hands were sure and graceful. She wielded a knife as confidently and gracefully as a potions master would.

And, they were simply lovely. Long, graceful fingers. Clean, shined nails. Pale and well formed. He was hypnotized by them.

"Ah!" She looked up at him, beaming. "That's what I did. I was supposed to press the fava bean, not chop it. I only needed the juice."

He nodded before he could stop himself. "A silver knife is best."

"Is it? Thank you, Professor." Humming, she took a silver knife and pressed the bean under it, collecting the juice. "I also wasn't very precise when I was cutting today," she confessed, adding the juice to the potion. "Alice Creed told me that Trevor Bryce told her that Alec Mansfield said I was pretty. I guess that went to my head. Only last week, the boys were saying I was too ugly to ever be kissed."

Severus snorted. "Do you mistake me for someone who cares about teenage drama?"

She smiled. "Of course not, sir." She fell silent for a few moments before she said, "I'm done."

Reluctantly, he walked over to see. Waving his wand over the cauldron, he tested the integrity of the potion.

It was perfect.

He twisted his lips. "If you had done this in class today, you would have passed."

The girl beamed. "I did it right?"

"It's serviceable." He nodded. "Bottle it up and leave it on my desk."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you need it? It's not for a grade. It's a healing potion. What if I get hurt? What if a friend gets hurt? No." She began ladling the potion into the vial. "No, I think I'll keep this one."

He gaped at her a moment, then snapped his mouth shut. She was correct. There was no reason for her to leave it with him. He'd already said he wouldn't change her grade, even though the potion was of such high quality, she almost deserved it.

Almost.

"Very well. Clean up and remove yourself from the room. I have work to do."

She nodded and cleaned up. Even though she was clearly trying to hurry, she didn't rush. She thoroughly scrubbed her cauldron and washed her equipment. The, she scrubbed the surface of the table and carefully packed her belongings into her bag. When she was done, she stopped in front of his desk. "Thank you, Professor, for allowing me to fix my mistake. I am grateful."

He hummed noncommittally. Then, he looked up at her. "Don't let your mind wander in class again. You won't have a second chance every time."

"Of course not, Professor." She smiled and there seemed to be a secret clinging to the edges of her lips. Then she left.

#

By her fifth year, it had become a habit and she was impossible to ignore. She was constantly in the class outside of school hours. Any time her potion failed, she would turn her large hazel eyes on him and ask if she could come after dinner and try again.

He didn't know how to say no. There was no ready excuse. He spent the evenings in his classroom grading papers and presiding over detentions. Everyone knew he was there. She was the only one who took advantage of it.

The problem was, she began coming even when she hadn't made a mistake on potions. She came in to work ahead or brew from book she got from the library. She brewed, humming softly to herself, chopping and measuring, elegant hands moving with growing precision.

She would rebrew potions, too, trying different methods of preparing the ingredients. Soon, she was brewing master-level potions. Snape had no choice but to give her the highest marks. She'd begun to earn them the first time.

"Professor?" she said one night, looking up from her cauldron.

"What?" He continued grading, slashing red marks through abysmal drivel.

"I was wondering. Anti-poison potions are wonderful, but what if someone poisoned and one doesn't have any near? Is there any way to save them without a potion?"

He let out a snort and marked the next page. "Why do you persist in trying to make me do your thinking for you?"

"You're a teacher. Isn't it your job to give me answers?"

He carefully set down his pen and looked up.

She had her chin propped on her fist and was gazing at him with a small smile. Her eyelashes were ridiculously long, and he felt his anger stir.

"It is my job to make you think. To give you the tools to find the answer yourself. If I told you, then you would have learned nothing."

She raised her eyebrow. "Then how do I learn if not go to you?"

"Try the library," he said dismissively. He looked down at his grading again.

"Hmm. Good idea."

He glanced up to see she'd gone back to brewing. "What are you doing tonight?" he said, nose twitching from the smell.

"Skele-grow."

"Why on earth would you need Skele-grow? What are you planning, girl?"

"Nothing!" She laughed. "I don't need it for anything. I just thought it looked challenging." She finished crushing the scarab beetles and added them to her cauldron. "I've heard it tastes awful. I tried to find a way to make it taste better, but it seems like everything reacts badly."

"How did you test? Where did you test?" He disliked the idea she was brewing potions out of his sight. Not that she needed supervision, per say, but it sat badly with him.

She shook her head. "I didn't test. I ran through the ingredients and looked for possible interactions. Every single flavoring I could think of reacted with each least one of the ingredients. It was very irritating."

"You… You figured that out from research?" Despite himself, he felt a stirring of admiration. Damn if he'd let her know. He set his quill down and rose.

She stopped stirring and looked up at him.

He ran his wand over the cauldron.

The position was good. Medical students didn't learn how to brew it until the third year of their apprenticeship. Snape had learned it the end of the second year of his. She was fifth year.

He forced his face into a mask of indifference. While Slughorn had spent his career fawning over students and vying for their attention, Severus would never stoop so low. Consequently, Marissa Stevenson would never know she was his most gifted student, at least not from him.

"What are you career plans?" he asked abruptly, putting away his wand.

She pursed her lips. "I'm torn. On the one hand, I love potions and wouldn't mind pursuing a career in it. However, recently, I've been reading about curse-breaking. It sounds so intriguing. I've always loved puzzles and riddles. Curse breaking would be like solving them for a living."

"So, you seek fame and fortune."

She waved her a hand and rolled her eyes. "Not that I'd turn down either, it's not my main goal. It just seems like a profession where I'd really get to use my mind."

He was skeptical of her response. He'd never met a teenager who didn't want fame and fortune. But, instead of challenging her, he merely said, "Curse-breaking is a notoriously difficult profession for Muggle-borns to break in to. If you aren't hired by Gringotts, that is. Most of the major curse-breaking firms are run by old Pureblood families who can be quite prejudice."

Her face fell. "Is that true?"

"Am I in the habit of lying to you?"

Her lashes veiled her eyes. She picked up a vial and began ladling potion into it. After a long moment, she shrugged. "I've always liked a challenge."

He exhaled sharply. "You are impossible, child."

#

Two days later, at the end of class, she stopped in front of his desk as the rest of the students filed out.

"What?" he snapped. Four students had exploded their cauldrons and he had a headache from the terrible weather.

She smiled. "Bezoars."

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you blathering on about, girl?"

"If you don't have an antidote to a poison, you can use a bezoar. They work for almost everything." She beamed.

Severus let out a sharp huff. "Do you want a medal?"

She laughed. "I'll see you tonight, Professor."

"Oohh," Pamela Trunchbull said mockingly. She exited the room, but not before Severus heard her say, "Stevenson's got it hot for the greasy old potion's professor."

"Fuck off, Trunchbull," the girl said, voice light and breezy.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for language." But that wasn't really why he took the points.

#

To no one's surprise, least of all Severus's, Marissa Stevenson got an Outstanding on her OWLS.

#

Sixth year, she began dating a boy. Snape took no notice. How she managed to date, continue experimenting with potions in the evening and suddenly become top of her class in Potions and Ancient Runes, with more than passable grades in Arithmancy and Defense Against the Dark Arts, he didn't know. Nor did he care.

It was a long year.

#

"Professor."

"What?" he snapped, not looking up. He was preparing a potion for sixth year to deconstruct. Last week, seventh year had done a similar lesson with a much more complicated potion. He had banned her from the classroom for a week while he prepared the potion, not wanting to give her any advantage.

She'd passed anyway, then admitted that she's brewed the potion before. Consequently, he was preparing a relatively new and very advanced potion called Wolfsbane for her to deconstruct. If she was able to break it down, he'd be very surprised.

"What do you think the ethical implications of brewing Amortentia are?"

He looked up. "Don't you have more important things to do right now?" He wasn't testing her at the moment, but she'd been working out of his old master's brewing textbook for weeks. He'd told her he'd write a letter of recommendation to the master he'd studied under if she could brew even half the potions.

She waved a hand over her cauldron. "I'm waiting for it to boil. What do you think?"

"I think anyone who uses Amortentia is a fool."

"I agree." She shook her head. "But is the brewer a fool? And, beyond that, would I be unethical?"

"How so?" He set down his paring knife.

"I know love potions don't invoke real love, but they do alter emotional state and induce euphoria while lowering inhibitions. They take away your ability to think clearly and rely on deceit. It just seems wrong."

He tilted his head. "A potion in and of itself is neither evil nor good. I assume you aren't using it, unless your boyfriend has lost his passion for you."

She blinked, looking surprised. "I haven't a boyfriend. Oh. Oh, no. Charlie and I broke up when he left school last summer. This isn't for me. Some of the students have been asking me to make it for them."

He felt nothing on hearing that she was no longer attached to the Gryffindor boy. That would be beyond inappropriate. It would be obscene. She was, after all, seventeen years old. He was her professor.

He felt nothing.

"Only a fool would brew a potion in exchange for nothing," he gritted out.

Her eyes lit and a smile curved her mouth. "Why, Professor. Surely you are not encouraging a student to charge other students in exchange for a service."

"Encouraging, no. Stating a fact, yes."

She wrinkled her nose, a delighted look on her face. "I see. Well," she said coyly, looking through her lashes, "it's lucky I am not a fool. Nor have I been for some time."

Ah. That explained the unusually clear complexions and luxurious hair amongst the seventh year Ravenclaw girls this year. He had wondered.

He tilted his head. "Surely those asking don't have a nefarious purpose in mind. They merely want to be close to the object of their affection."

She sighed. "Yes, except… well, a Slytherin boy asked and requested I make it extra strong. He also asked if I could include a memory altering charm."

"Which boy?"

"Professor, I must protect my clients."

He tightened his fist around his scalpel. Unfortunately, he grabbed the wrong end, and the blade dug into his finger. "You do understand what he is planning."

"I'm not entirely naïve," she said dryly. "I thought about giving him a defective product, but my pride won't allow it." She frowned and wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll just refuse to brew it for anyone. It doesn't sit comfortably with me. If people want to be with someone, they should do it naturally."

"Like you and your boyfriend. Oh, sorry. Ex."

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I used a love potion on him to get him to notice me."

He tightened his hand again. "I'm appalled."

"And I'm joking. I… Professor, you're bleeding." She came around from her table and approached him.

Severus dropped the scalpel. "I assure you, it's nothing."

She caught his hand before he could take it away. "Silly man," she said, running her wand over the wound.

With a cool tingle, the skin knitted leaving only blood behind. "It was an accident."

"Clearly. I can't imagine you'd ever be stupid enough to injure yourself on purpose." She looked up at him, humor lighting her eyes and a smile curving her mouth. She hadn't let go of his hand.

She hadn't let go of his hand.

A hot flush heated his neck. He snatched his hand away. "Your potion is boiling."

She looked at him for another long moment, then sighed and went back to her station. "He's a sixth year," she said as she began adding the next ingredient. "Black hair. Blue eyes. Tall. Why he needs a love potion is beyond me. He could probably have any girl he wants."

He cleared his throat. And then cleared it again. "That's the type that's the most dangerous. Because there's always someone who doesn't, and then it's a challenge." He swallowed. "I'll take care of it." Then, because he was a professor and she was a student, he added, "And stop selling potions to your classmates. It's against the rules."

Without looking at him, she smiled that secret smile and said, "Of course, Professor."

#

Suddenly, there were illicit potions everywhere. Every student had one, in ever year, every house. With her earnings, Marissa Stevenson managed to acquire a new cauldron, an apprentice potion kid, and a new preparation kit. One of the highest quality. In fact, it was better than Severus'.

She was discreet, too. No one could catch her at sales. He didn't try, but other teachers did. Everyone knew it must be her because no one else would have anything nearly as high quality. While it caused great consternation in the teacher's room, Severus didn't give much thought to it. Students were always illicitly selling something; they'd done it when he was in school, they did it now, and they'd do it in the future. If they put out a good product and didn't get caught, who was he to complain?

Until they day he caught her in the middle of a sale. It was completely accidental. He'd been going to the Owlery to mail something off when he'd stumbled upon her mid transaction.

The student who was buying the potion was quick. She was Slytherin. Without a word, she dropped the potion and fled before Severus had even gotten a proper look at her.

Marissa Stevenson was left with a broken potion bottle at her feet, a few Galleons in her hands, and a sheepish expression on her face.

He let out a short huff. "Two weeks detention."

"That's hardly a…"

"You are banned from my classroom after hours for two weeks. Not one foot, not one excuse. I don't want to see you." He strode past her in a flurry of robes.

"Because I was selling or because I was caught, Professor?" she called after him.

Luckily his back was to her. It wouldn't do for her to see the twitch in his mouth at her impertinence.

And, yet, he never saw it coming. When it happened, he was blindsided.

It was happened the afternoon of the Leaving Feast. It was the usual celebration and high spirits, with those leaving the school for good slightly maudlin at times. It was loud, it was chaotic, and it was overwhelming.

Severus left the first moment he was able, slipping away to his classroom to finish setting his classroom to rights before he left. He'd only been there a few moments before he heard the door open.

"Professor."

He turned. "Miss Stevenson. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your fellows getting in your final moments?"

She rolled her eyes and waved a hand. "The ones I'm friends with, I'll see again. The rest…" She shrugged. "I'm sure I'll see around somewhere." She took a step closer.

"What are your plans for the summer?"

"Egypt. Gringotts has accepted me into their curse-breaking program. I leave next week."

He twisted his lips into a frown. "Fame and fortune."

"I'd rather curse break for a firm, but no one would take me on. At least this way I'll have experience."

Severus went to his desk and pulled out an envelope. "If you ever reconsider, here's the letter I promised you. The man I studied under is very good and while he's harsh, he's not prejudiced. He stood with Muggle-borns when during the war."

She seemed to float across the room. Her fingers brushed his when she took the letter. "Thank you, Professor Snape. I will keep it in mind if my chosen field doesn't work out." She licked her lips. "Professor." She stopped talking.

"Yes?"

"I…" For once, she seemed at a loss for words. She frowned, a winkle appearing between her eyes. "I wanted to say…" She shook her head. "I mean…"

"If you thank me…"

"No," she said, laughter fluttering her words. "Not that. It's simply… Oh." A determined look came over her face.

Before he knew what she intended to do, she stepped into his space and pressed her lips to his.

Panic welled in him. He pushed her away perhaps a tad too violently.

She stumbled back and caught herself against a table. "Sev…"

"No." He shook his head vehemently. "No, I can't. I don't…"

The girl blinked up at him, that determined look still on her face. "Don't be stupid. We get along. We have similar interests. We enjoy each other's company. I'm no longer your student. So why…"

"I'm much older than you."

"By, what? Thirteen years? What does that matter? We're both adults."

"You are a child."

She tightened her jaw. "Not according to the law."

"You are my student."

"No. I'm done with school." She took a deep breath and stepped forward. "I come back at Christmas. Perhaps we can get a cup of tea."

"Child…"

"My name is Marissa."

He closed his eyes. "Marissa." He let out a sharp breath. "What you ask is impossible."

"Why?"

"It just is."

There was silence. He clenched his fists and listened to himself breathe. The back of his neck was hot, and it prickled. His mouth still tingled from the brush of her lips.

Finally, she sighed. "Very well. I'll leave it be." He heard her soft footsteps on the stone as she must have walked away. Then, they stopped. "At least for now."

His eyes snapped open.

She was giving him a sweetly mischievous smile. "This isn't the last we'll see of each other. And I've always liked a challenge."

"Marissa…"

"Good-bye, Severus. Take care." Then, before he could say anything else, she slipped away leaving him alone, flustered, and completely confused.


	2. Chapter 2

Summer passed all too quickly and very soon Severus was back at Hogwarts. Life took on a peaceful routine, save for the students. He never once thought of Marissa Stevenson. He didn't think of her during his classes, where not one student displayed a drop of innovation nor intelligence. He didn't think of her in the evenings when he sat in his empty classroom. He didn't think of her when he read about a new potion or refined his brewing technique. He didn't think of her when he came across an advertisement from Gringotts, still searching for curse-breakers.

He didn't think of her.

And he didn't feel a sense of anticipation the closer it got to the winter holidays.

Then two days before the holidays, he got an owl.

_Dear Severus,_

_I trust this letter finds you well. I hope you aren't too frustrated by the first years and their ignorance nor the seventh and their eagerness to be gone. Has anyone been brave enough to replace me as your evening companion? I somehow doubt it as I often had students marveling at my supposed bravery. Although I have no desire for you to be lonely, I find myself hoping no pretty young thing has taken my place. Not that you ever noticed me in that capacity when I was your student. You were entirely too noble, or I have much too high opinion of my looks._

He snorted.

_I am sad to say that I will not be in London over the winder holidays. Gringotts has discovered a new site and we trainees have the option of working it. So, I guess I am after fortune after all._

_Egypt agrees with me. I enjoy the weather and the culture. I continue to brew potions at night and have started trading with the local Egyptian wizards. I'm lucky I don't need much sleep, since I have much to study in order to meet the standards the goblins expect._

_I do hope that you have thought of what I said last spring. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it's also said out of sight out of mind. My affections have not changed._

_I hope you'll write me back but expect you won't. Until next time._

_I remain yours,_

_Marissa Stevenson_

"Why, Severus. You almost look as if you are smiling," Minerva said.

He folded the letter and scowled at her. Then, he turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster."

"Yes, Severus?" Dumbledore looked up.

"My plans have changed. I can stay for the holidays."

Dumbledore looked almost disappointed. "Are you sure? You've stayed the past few years. Perhaps…"

"No. I will stay."

"Very well." His eyes flicked to the letter in Severus's hands, then turned back to his meal.

#

_Dear Child,_

_You are impossible._

_I am not sure if you are subscribed to any potion's journals. I've clipped some research I think you might find interesting._

_Don't use any potion you haven't tested._

_Severus_

_#_

_Dear Severus,_

_I was delighted to receive your letter. While I am not unsurprised at your briefness, I do wish you had told me more of yourself. You lead a very lonely life, it seems, and I worry. Did you at least enjoy your holiday?_

_Life continues apace in Egypt. I am doing vey well in the program and have clearly exceeded expectations in many areas. I have no doubt Gringotts will hire me on when my training is complete, but I do find myself longing for home. I remember quite well what you said of the major firms, but I still believe my future lies with a private company rather than a bank. I don't fancy a life overseas._

_Have you ever been in love? I know I am impertinent in asking, but I've always wondered. You seem a man of great passion. I can only imagine the lucky woman you may have turned that passion to._

_I have but one request of you, my dear Severus. In the future, I would appreciate not being addressed as 'child.' I may not be very old, but I have tucked childhood away and stepped into a larger world. Besides, you wouldn't want anyone to think you were corresponding with a child, would you?_

_I remain forever yours,_

_Marissa Stevenson._

_#_

_Dear Miss Stevenson,_

_You make a valid point._

_In your first letter you said Egypt agrees with you. What has changed?_

_Enclosed is a potion I am creating. There is an error somewhere, but I cannot find it._

_Yes. You are impertinent._

_Severus._

_#_

_My dear Severus,_

_Nothing has changed. I am still thriving in Egypt. The work is interesting and challenging. I have many friends, both among the apprentices and the locals. I love the climate and the scenery. But, as they say, home is where the heart is, and my heart is in England._

_I believe your measurements are off. Try ¼ cup of beetles to 2 teaspoons of dragon scales. That produced a more satisfying result for me, although it is not perfect. I'll keep trying._

_Severus, you do know how to confound a person. Was that, yes, you've been in love AND I am impertinent, or yes, I am impertinent. I've lost hours trying to work it out._

_Yours,_

_Marissa_

_#_

_Dear Miss Stevenson,_

_Do not hang your future on a schoolgirl crush. There is nothing for you here._

_Thank you for your corrections. I see where I went wrong before._

_Yes, and._

_Severus_

_#_

_Dear Severus,_

_How can you say there is nothing when with every letter, my heart skips a beat? And there is also my family and friends. I have a generous heart._

_Who was she?_

_Yours,_

_Marissa_

#

The proper thing to do would be to cut all correspondence. He couldn't risk her getting tangled with the mess of his life.

The next three days, the students were especially incompetent. His evenings were filled with detentions.

He'd just about put her from his mind, when he got another letter.

_Severus,_

_I cannot think. I cannot breathe. My father is dead. He had a blood clot that went to his brain. He died in his sleep._

_Gringotts has given me a week bereavement. One week to grieve the loss of my father!_

_I'll arrive by portkey at one ten in the London station. From there, I'll Apparate to my parents… mother's house in York. I am not looking forward to the trip. Portkey gives me a frightful headache._

_I can't believe he's gone._

_Marissa._

Severus folded his letter. For a moment, he sat there, lost in thought. Then, with a sharp inhale, he turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster. I have an urgent request."


	3. Chapter 3

She stepped out of the portkey chamber looking pale but composed. There were dark smudges under her eyes, and she squinted against the light. She stopped to slip on a pair of dark glasses. When they were in place, she began walking.

And stopped.

"Severus?"

"I thought you might have neglected to bring a headache potion, foolish girl." He held out the bottle.

She dropped her bag, ran to him, and flung her arms around him. Her embrace was tight, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

Hesitantly, he put his arms around her. He patted her back gingerly, afraid she'd shatter. She was tense in his arms, back and neck tight.

After a long moment, she pulled away. "I'm so glad you've come. I never thought…"

"Take your potion." He pushed it into her hands. As she drank, he ran a critical gaze over her.

Despite her understandably tense and pale countenance, she looked well enough. Her skin was tanned and there was a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her dark gold hair had some lighter strands thought, no doubt from the Egyptian sun. Her weight was good, and she looked healthy and fit.

She finished drinking and handed the bottle back to him. "Thank you. That helped." She removed the glasses and slipped them into a pocket. "Why are you here?"

A simple question, but one for which he had no ready answer. No good answer at any rate. Instead, he picked up her suitcase and said, "We should go. Your mother no doubt needs you."

A flush rose to her cheeks. "You're coming home with me?"

"I assume you know how to do a side-along apparition. I don't know where you live."

She grinned. "I do." She held out her hand.

He placed his in hers. Together, they apparated, appearing behind a cozy house. They stood in the middle of a green yard shaded by tree. There was a garden with riot of colorful flowers. Everything was neat and pleasant, with benches scattered around for sitting and a small fountain in the corner.

It was a far cry from Spinner's End.

Marissa took a deep breath and tightened her grip on his hand.

"Okay," she whispered, straightening her shoulders. Then, she walked to the house. "Mum?" she called as she walked in through the back door and into a kitchen.

"Marissa? Is that you?" A soft, round woman a head shorter than Marissa came into the room. She had a cloud of white hair and bright blue eyes behind her gold spectacles. She looked tired and careworn, but she smiled when she saw them. "I'm so glad you're home." She opened her arms.

Marissa stepped into them and gave her mother a hug. "Are you all right? I can't believe he's…" Her voice was cut off with a choked sound.

"I know, darling. It was sudden." She pulled back and looked up into her daughter's face. "Just the night before, he was talking and laughing like nothing was wrong. He had a pain in his leg but was going to get it checked. And then…" She shook her head. Then, she turned her eyes to Severus. "Hello. I'm Edith." She looked over him and said, "Are you Severus Snape by any chance?"

He arched his eyebrows in surprise.

Edith smiled and held out her hand. "Marissa showed us a picture of you. She speaks of you often."

Severus shook her hand. "I'm sorry for your loss."

A wave of sadness washed over her face. "Thank you. As I said, it was sudden, but not entirely unexpected. He was eight-nine."

He glanced at Marissa, surprised. He'd expected her parents to be younger, as she was only eighteen… or was she nineteen now? To have parents of such an advanced as was uncommon.

Edith dropped Severus's hand and looked between him and Marissa. "Are you staying for the funeral? It's tomorrow afternoon at our church."

Marissa's eyes went wide with hope.

"I wouldn't…" he started, then shook his head. "I've never been to church before."

Edith looked surprised, but it quickly faded as she said, "Of course, you're a wizard. Still, you're welcome if you want to come. You'll only need clothes."

"I can transfigure some of Dad's to fit," Marissa said softly. She was looking down now, face despondent.

He sighed. "I'll stay."

Marissa practically glowed. "I'll show you to the guest room," she said.

"I'll make some tea," Edith said. "The neighbors have been generous. We've cake and casseroles to last the month." Edith smiled and moved to the kettle.

"This way," Marissa said. She walked out of the kitchen and led Severus up the stairs.

The guest room was small and comfortable. It was done in soft yellows and creams. The windows were open and lace curtains wafted in on a gentle breeze.

Marissa went to the bureau and took out some sheets. "I'll make the bed," she said, but Severus took them from her.

"I can do it. You should be with your mother."

She swallowed and blinked a few times. "I know." Her arms dropped and she stood there, not moving.

Severus put the sheets on the bed and took out his wand. With a quick flick, the bed began to make itself. "I didn't expect your mother and father to be so advanced in their years. They could be your grandparents."

She blinked again and focused on him, looking as if she were coming out of a trance. "Oh, they are. Properly, I mean. My natural mum died when I was born. Her parents adopted me. I've always known, but it just made more sense to call them Mum and Dad." She shrugged.

"What of your father?"

She shook her head. "He didn't want me. They were young and he…" She shrugged. "A few years later, he got in a crash. Drunk driving."

"I'm sorry." He hesitated, then said, "I know something of not being wanted by one's father."

"Yours abandoned you too?"

"No. But I often wished he had. You are lucky to have grown up with loving parents."

"I know." She bit her bottom lip and gazed up at him, hazel eyes bright. "I'm not ready for tomorrow." She gasped suddenly, then stepped close and put her arms around him. "Thank you for coming." She brushed her lips lightly over his.

Heat rushed through him. He stepped out of her embrace. "Marissa, you mustn't think… My feelings have not changed."

She sighed. "Frustrating man. Then why are you here?"

He had no ready answer.

Marissa smiled. "I imagine your objections are the same. The age difference? That I was your student?"

"There are other concerns."

"Like what?"

He inhaled deeply. "Marissa, you just lost your father. I'm here as support. We can talk about my concerns later."

She nodded. "I'll get my dad's clothes for you to transfigure. Mum will have tea ready soon." She yawned, and Severus's eyes were drawn to the dark smudges under her eyes.

"You should rest. Get some sleep."

"Later." She smiled warmly. "I'll be back in a moment." She left.

Severus sat on the bed, looking around. And wondering what the hell he was doing.

#

The service the next day was lovely. There was music and flowers. People spoke about the deceased in glowing terms. Severus was able to put together a picture of the man: warm, loving, a good friend and a good father. He loved the outdoors and puzzles. He played cricket until he couldn't. He was the member of many charity organizations and had been something of a prankster at university.

During the service, Marissa sat between her mother and him. She had one hand in her mothers and the other on the pew between them. At one point, she reached over and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

She never shed a tear.

After the service, the body was taken a crematorium and a reception was held at a nearby recreation facility. Severus stood in a corner and watched as Marissa was beset by well-meaning friends and family. They expressed sympathy over her father's death and shared stories about him. They asked where she'd been over the holidays. They twitted over her imagined weight loss and the not imagined shadows under her eyes. They asked after friends. They probed her about her love life. More than one asked about her career ambitions and shook their heads when she gave vague answers. It was when a cousin began asking about her motherhood aspirations that Marissa got a gleam in her eye that spelled danger.

He left the corner and crossed the room.

"Perhaps some air?" he suggested.

She let out a breath and nodded. "Excuse me," she said, pushing the baby she was holding back to the cousin. She took Severus's hand and followed him out of the hall.

There was a park behind the reception hall. They walked in silence until they came to a bench, where they sat.

"Thanks," she said, brushing hair from her face.

He nodded.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, face to the sun. "What do you think would happen if I didn't go back to Egypt? If I stay here instead?"

"You wouldn't complete your apprenticeship, you would never become a curse breaker, and you'd be miserable."

She opened her eyes. "I could do something else." She looked at him. "I could become a potion's master. Brew for the rest of my live. Open my own business."

But he shook his head.

Her face fell. "Why not? It's what you wanted for me."

"But it's not what you want for yourself. It wouldn't be the same challenge."

Marissa let out a shaky breath. "I just hate to think of her all alone. She's seventy-eight. She's getting frail and…" She sniffed.

Severus turned to her. "She won't be alone. She has all those friends. Family too. She'll be taken care of."

"Isn't that my job? To take care of my parents?" Her face suddenly crumpled. "Oh, God, Severus, I didn't even come home to see him at Christmas!" She dissolved into tears.

Feeling awkward, he put his arms around her. Held her as she sobbed and stroked her hair. He said nothing, no platitudes or admonishments. No shushing or sighing. He simply held her and let her cry.

He lost track of how long she cried. Gradually, her sobs lessened and trailed off. Finally sniffling, she pulled away, red eyed, face splotched.

Without intending to, he reached out and wiped a tear away. "I'm sorry you didn't see him before he passed."

"I keep thinking that if I had just come…"

"Nonsense. You don't have that power."

"Yes, but a butterfly flaps its wings in China, and it sets off a storm in California." She sniffed. "Sorry. It's a Muggle thing."

"I know the saying." He hesitated, then said, "I'm a half-blood. My father was Muggle."

She blinked, looking surprised. "Oh. I thought… Was that why he was so horrible? Because you were a wizard and he was not?"

He thought about it, then shook his head. "My father was a miserable man. I think he would have been the same no matter what."

Marissa nodded. "I understand." She sighed and sniffed, wiping her eyes. "I know it's childish to think anything I did could have stopped him from dying. But, oh." She sighed wistfully. "I wish I'd seen him one more time."

"Of course."

She lay her head on his shoulder. "He loved puzzles. Not just the ones you put together, but logic puzzles. Mathematical riddles. Anagrams. When I was a child, we'd sit together every night and work on them together. He shared his love with me. We read, too. Him, me, and Mum. Every night. And not just picture books. When I was old enough to concentrate, they read me novels. Austen, Bronte, Shelley."

"They read you _Frankenstein_ when you were a child?"

"They saved that for the year before I went to Hogwarts. But, also, children's literature. _The Secret Garden_ and _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_." She sighed. "I loved those hours we'd spend at night, them on either side of me, taking turns reading." She wiped her face. "Every night, he'd tuck me in. Tell me how much he loved me and that he couldn't wait to see me in the morning. And when I left of Egypt, he told me he was proud of me. That I was about to set off on a wonderous adventure. Little did I know that I'd never see him again."

He put his arm around her. "He sounds like a wonderful father."

"He was." Her eyes welled again, but she just wiped the tears away. "How do I go on with life after this? How am I supposed to be normal with my father dead?"

Severus thought of the losses he'd had. He thought of his life now. And he said, "You must find a way. Otherwise, life becomes nothing but a shadow."

She sat up and looked at him. "Are you speaking from experience?"

He nodded once.

"Who?"

He shook his head.

She sighed and said, "You are a virtual vault of mysteries."

Severus smiled. "You do like a challenge."

This time when she kissed him, he didn't pull back. Not right away. He allowed himself to feel the warmth of her embrace and the softness of her lips. He breathed in her fresh, clean scent and reveled in the feel of another body pressed against his own.

Reluctantly, he pulled back. Withdrew from her and held himself close.

"I shouldn't," he said, eyes downcast.

"Explain to me. In words that don't include student or too old. Because those reasons are rubbish. I know you like me. I believe you are attracted to me. So, explain why not."

He closed his eyes. "I am not a good man. I … My…." He huffed out a breath. "I killed my yes." He opened his eyes again.

Confusion clouded her face. "Your yes? Who… Oh. The person you loved."

"Yes."

"How?"

He couldn't look at her as he said, "Have you heard of Harry Potter?"

"The Boy Who Lived? Who hasn't?"

"His mother. Lily. She… I …" He swallowed, fists clenching. "We were friends for a long time. Then we weren't. But I still… But I went wrong. I allowed my hatred of my father and my ambition to…" He pressed his lips together, then forced out, "I became a Death Eater." He risked a glance at her.

Her face was neutral, almost deliberately so. "Go on."

"That should be enough, stupid girl."

"I want to hear how you killed her."

Angrily, he said, "I was at Hogwarts for an interview. I overheard Trelawney give a prophecy about the defeat of the Dark Lord. I… I told him." Grief swelled in him, tightening his throat. "I didn't know he'd think… I didn't know he would…" His eyes stung, but he ruthlessly quashed his feelings down. "He killed her. Because of me, he killed her." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "That's what I do to those I love. I cannot risk that again. I won't."

"I see."

With great effort, he forced himself to look up.

Marissa's expression cut him. It was a cold mask.

He swallowed. "I told you. There were reasons. That I…" He faltered and trailed off.

She took a breath. "I need to think. I need…" She pushed back hair from her face. "I'm not entirely sure you're as culpable as you think of Lily Potter's death, but you were a Death Eater. I don't need to be with someone who hates Muggle-borns."

"I don't. I never did. But I apprenticed under a Death Eater, and he offered to introduce me to people in power. I was young and ambitious and…"

"Stupid."

"Yes." He fell silent.

They sat there for a long time. Marissa gazed into the distance with a thoughtful expression on her face.

For his part, Severus was in the tenth circle. He had not realized how highly he valued her regard until it was most likely lost. Not only that, just reminding himself of what he'd done… of the loss he'd suffered because of his damned ambition made him feel those feelings all over again.

The silence was agonizing. His heart, already pained from speaking about Lily, was tight and cramped. He cursed himself. How could he have let this happen? Why had he let this girl become so important to him?

"God," she said, rubbing her face. "This was a reality check I probably didn't need today." She swore softly.

He stayed silent. There were no more words to say.

Finally, she let out a sharp breath. "We should go back."

"I could leave."

Marissa shook her head. "No. I don't… I'm angry and confused, Severus, but I don't want… I don't know what I want." She stood and ran her hand through her loose, flowing hair. "Just stay. Come." She held out her hand.

Severus stared at her a moment, then took it. Together, they walked back to the reception hall.


	4. Chapter 4

That night, he was in the guest room, laying in bed, unable to sleep. He should leave. Leave now, in the middle of the night, without saying goodbye. Without giving her a chance to tell him to leave. It'd be easiest to just slip away, to avoid the humiliation. It'd be for the best.

He'd just about determined to do it when there was a soft knock at the door.

He sat up just as the door opened and Marissa stepped inside.

Silently, she closed the door behind her, then stood with her back to it. She was in her pajamas, her hair flowing loosely over her shoulders. Without a word, she crossed the room to the bed.

"Come to ask me to leave?"

"No." She sat on the edge. The moonlight softly lit her face. "I have questions."

He nodded and leaned against the headboard. "Very well."

"You were a Death Eater. And highly enough placed to have You-Know-Who's ear. Why aren't you in Azkaban?"

He swallowed. "When I realized what the Dark Lord believed, what he would do, I went to Dumbledore. I told him what would happen. I became his spy. He spoke for me at my trial."

She winced but nodded. "Would you do it again?"

He frowned, bewildered. "Tell the Dark Lord…"

"Become a Death Eater, stupid man. If you knew then what you do now…"

"No." Severus let out a great sigh and shook his head. "No. And not just because of Lily, nor because the Dark Lord lost. None of it was worth anything. The connections, the power… it was hollow. I never had any real respect or power. I was a tool, nothing more."

"Lost your ambition?"

He thought a moment before shaking his head. "I still want more from life, but recognize it is out of my reach."

"But why? Severus, you're not a teacher. You hate it. It makes you miserable. Why not leave and…"

"I cannot. And I cannot tell you why, Marissa," he said quietly. He shook his head.

She sighed and gazed into the darkness.

"I should not have come. I was determined not to write back to you. And then I got your last letter. I just didn't think, I simply acted."

Marissa closed her eyes. "I don't need you protecting me from you. I'd rather know it all that be ignorant."

"Yes, but had I simply not written, your illusions would not now be shattered."

"Oh, darling," she sighed. Opening her eyes, she turned to him. "It's a mere crack. It can be repaired."

"You cannot be serious," he said, even as his heart rose.

She made a noise deep in her throat. After a moment, she turned and crawled onto the bed. And on top of him, straddling him. "I believe when you say you don't hate Muggles. You're harsh and can be cruel, but I never saw you single out a student because of their birth."

"I was a Death Eater."

"And now you're not. And you wouldn't be again. People make mistakes. It's what they do to fix those mistakes that's important."

"And what have I done? Taken a job I hate, terrorized children for their natural ignorance, and brewed a few potions. And now, to top it all off, I am in bed with one of my students."

"Former student. And you went to the Headmaster."

"To save Lily."

She lifted her shoulders. "It's a start. I'm not saying I think what you did was understandable. And that I won't leave you if I see you traveling down that path again. But…" Marissa sighed and put her hands on his chest. "Maybe I'm crazy, but I find I still want you."

He closed his eyes. "Marissa…"

"No. I'm tired of your paltry excuses. You've said I'm too young. That I was your student. That you're a bad person. That you hurt those you love. None of those are…" She fell silent, then said, "Tell me plainly. Do you want me? Or not?"

Severus opened his eyes again.

She was gazing at him, eyes wide and clear. There was a hint of resignation and fear in her face. She was clearly braced for his rejection.

Severus opened his mouth to do just that. To end this charade and be free once more. Back to his lonely life. To isolation. To having the only joy denied him.

"I… I…" He couldn't do it.

Instead, his treacherous hand reached up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her lips. "Foolish girl. This will end badly."

She smiled and turned her face into his hand to kiss his palm. "No. It won't.

He smiled, exasperation warring with fondness and relief. "Optimistic youth."

Marissa laughed. "How old are you, exactly?"

"Thirty-one."

"Oh, yes, you're ancient." She leaned down, hair curtaining Severus. Her lips were warm and full. Soft.

He sighed against them. When they broke apart, he said, "I'm not used to wanting. When she died, I vowed not to want again."

"That's no way to live."

"It's what I deserve."

She looked sad. "Severus, you made a dreadful mistake with catastrophic consequences. But would Lily want…"

"Lily is dead. Because of me."

"Because of the Dark One."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I do not deserve to have someone like you in my life."

Marissa stroked his hair away from his face. "Then we are at an impasse, for I don't deserve to be denied what I want."

He snorted and opened his eyes.

"Let me love you. Don't worry about if you deserve it."

"You don't love me."

"But I am fond of you. I like you very much." Her hand trailed down his face to his neck. "I desire you."

A shiver went through him.

Her mouth curved into a smile. "What about you? Do you desire me?" She moved her shoulder, which allowed the strap of her pajamas to slip down.

Mouth dry, he reached out and readjusted it. "Don't be stupid. Of course I do."

Her smile blossomed into a grin, a blush coloring her cheeks. She leaned down and kissed him.

He welcomed it. This time, he threaded his fingers in her hair, feeling the silky strands. When she deepened the kiss, he allowed it, opening his mouth. The touch of her tongue against his sent a wave of desire to him. His fingers tightened in her hair and he pressed up into the kiss.

She let out a soft, shocked sound. Her arms slid around Severus's neck.

Her kisses were soft and sweet. They made Severus's head spin. He couldn't remember it ever being like this. Perhaps if he had ever had the chance with Lily… but considering all his affairs were with other Death Eaters…. Soft and sweet had not been part of the equation.

But this… He was overwhelmed by the feel of her skin and her scent. The way her hair kept getting in his mouth. The quiet sounds she made and the way she kissed him just a touch too hard. A bit too enthusiastically.

This time, when her shoulder strap fell, instead of readjusting it, he kissed the bare skin. Scraped his teeth over her skin before biting gently.

She laughed. "They used to call you a vampire at school," she said in between kisses.

He nipped at her neck. "If you tell anyone…"

"Wait. I'm allowed to kiss you, but not allowed to tell anyone?" She pulled back. Her lips were pink and swollen, face flushed. "Is this to be a secret?"

"If people knew, they'd shun you."

"Stop trying to protect me. If I want to tell people I'm with the man I'm inordinately fond of, I will. And if they don't like it, then they weren't really friends."

"I haven't the best reputation. I wouldn't want to ruin yours."

She settled back on his lap. Took his hand. "Severus, I'm not going to pretend. My reputation will stand on its own and, if it doesn't, I'll forge ahead anyway. Everyone in school knew I was spending time with you, and I still had friends. I even managed to have a boyfriend. People in the program know I've been writing you. They think it odd but say nothing more. I think you're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be."

Severus threaded their fingers together. "Will you forgive me if I don't announce to the Hogwarts staff that I am embarking on a relationship with you?"

"I'd understand it if you didn't tell anyone now. We're still just getting to know each other. And I never go the sense you had friends on the staff. But if circumstances change… if we were to become serious…"

"I don't…" He closed his eyes. "I don't think I can marry you, Marissa. If that's what you're expecting."

She huffed out a breath. "I don't know that I expect anything. But why not?"

"I cannot explain."

"Why not?"

He squeezed her hand, opening his eyes again. "If circumstances change… if we were to become serious… I will tell you."

"Is that a promise?"

"It is."

"Okay, then." She leaned forward, but he caught her.

"Perhaps… not now." He raised an eyebrow. "We are still just getting to know each other."

She looked annoyed, but, after a long moment, nodded. "Very well. I'll defer to your experience."

He barked a laugh. "Do you imagine that I've had hundreds of relationships with pretty young things?"

She slid off him and settled in bed next to him. "Have you?"

He waited until she was pressed comfortably against him, her chin resting on his shoulder as she gazed up at him. "No," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "I loved Lily, and when she died, there wasn't anyone else."

Marissa raised her eyebrow.

"I've had other women, you impudent girl."

She laughed. "I didn't say anything."

"The look was enough." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "When I was a … a…"

"Death Eater," she supplied.

"Yes. There was no absence of women. We were all seeking power, seeking a way to make connections and climb higher in the ranks. It was tawdry." He glanced at her. "You should be disgusted."

"Stop telling me what I should be feeling. And I am." She frowned and rested her head on his chest. "Have you had a lot of sex?"

He felt a flush creep up his neck. But he forced himself to answer, "Not exactly. Some. I wasn't exactly considered a desirable partner, nor did I find many of the available partners appealing." He cleared his throat. "And you?"

She shook her head.

"Not at all?"

"I wasn't ready before."

He tightened his arm. "And you are now?"

"I'm closer. I was even closer a moment ago," she said, clearly annoyed.

Severus laughed softly. "I'm told it's better if you truly know the other person."

She lifted her head. "And you want to know me? Truly?" She sounded uncertain, possibly for the first time since they'd met.

"Yes," he whispered, tracing her face. "I do."

#

The next morning, Severus woke before her. He opened his eyes to find her nestled in his arms, head resting on his chest, one leg flung over his. For a long moment, he gazed down at her, almost in awe. For the first time in the longest time, he felt… tender. Caring. There was a soft feeling in his chest and a looseness in his body that hadn't been there since before he called Lily a Mudblood all those many years ago.

Marissa didn't remind him of Lily in the slightest bit. Lily had been outgoing and effusive in her cheerfulness. She'd been bubbly and laughed loudly and often. She'd been caring towards other and never kept her brilliance to herself. Severus remember the hours she'd spent tutoring others, trying to help them understand the intricacies of Potions and Transfigurations. She'd been patient and kind and welcoming.

Marissa wasn't like that, not that he'd ever seen. Oh, she was kind and polite and friendly towards others, but she was more reserve. All her smiles seemed to have a private joke at the edge of them, as if she were secretly laughing at the world. In all those days she spent honing her craft, he never saw her reach out to others to help outside of the class. Ravenclaws were notorious for discussing things to death, and he'd overheard her participate in discussions with others about the best way to brew or the meaning of an ancient rune, but she didn't run study sessions to share her knowledge. Marissa was private, introspective, and oh so very confident.

Actually, they had that in common: their confidence. Perhaps they were not unalike after all.

She stirred and opened her eyes. A look of confusion crossed her features until she lifted her head and saw him. A smile curved her lips. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

She sat up and pressed her lips to his. "Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, actually." He stroked his hand down her back. "Have you here suited."

Her smile turned impish. "Good to hear." She sat up and crossed her legs under her as she began finger combing her hair. "Are you staying much longer?"

"Sadly, no. I have to go back."

"Oh." She looked down. "And I return to Egypt."

"We'll write. If you want, we can arrange to fire-call."

"I think I'd like that." She blinked at him, those lovely hazel eyes glowing in the morning light. "Stay for breakfast?"

He nodded.

Edith said nothing when they came downstairs together. They'd parted to dress and wash but had met in the hallway and come down. His hand had hovered at her back, and he pulled out her chair before she could.

Severus wondered what Edith thought. What she would say when he was gone. For now, he only ate breakfast, chatted pleasantly, and enjoyed the last few moments with Marissa.

"Write me often," she said before he apparated.

"Demanding girl. I will write when I have something to say."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him that secret smile. "Then have something to say often."

He shook his head and smile fondly. "You are impossible." He leaned down and kissed her. "I will write you soon. Farewell."

Severus apparated outside the gates of Hogwarts. On seeing the gates, his heart sank, and that tight feeling returned. He should have requested a picture of Marissa before he left. Just something to brighten the dark halls.

He snorted and shook his head. Sentimental rubbish.

Frustrated now, he stalked through the gates and onto the grounds. Students were everywhere, lounging on the grass, walking on paths, flying on brooms. As usual, they scurried out of his way, conversations quieting as he passed.

He'd just entered the castle when Dumbledore happened by.

"Severus, welcome back." He stopped in front of Severus. "I trust everything is well?"

Severus swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Headmaster. And I thank you once again for allowing me time off on such short notice."

"It was no trouble at all, my boy. You have been quite dedicated to your post and have more than earned time off should you need it." He tilted his head. "Might I have a clue as to what happened?"

He tightened his jaw momentarily. "There was a death. A friend's father died. I thought it best to be with them at this time."

Dumbledore's eyes brightened. "Severus, that's wonderful. Not the death, of course. That is sad. But that you've reached out to a friend after being so isolated for so long."

"Don't make it what it's not," he snapped. "I merely offered some support, that's all. Excuse me I need to see what mess my class is in." He stepped around Dumbledore and began striding away.

"I do hope Miss Stevenson wasn't too distraught by her father's passing," Dumbledore said, stopping Severus in his tracks. "It's hard to lose a loved one so young. I'm sure you were a comfort to her."

He turned and looked at Dumbledore in disbelief.

The headmaster only smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Good day, Severus. Good day." He walked away, leaving Severus to curse him silently behind his back.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Severus,_

_I returned to Egypt yesterday. Although I am back to work, I find myself listless and distracted. Don't imagine that it's because I miss you, although I do. I slept better in your arms than I have since I left Hogwarts, which in many ways feels more like home than home. But that's not why I feel so off. Perhaps curse-breaking is simply losing its allure. How sad. Especially since next week we're to be given objects of our own to catalogue and break any curses they might contain. Before, I would have been excited. Now, I cannot dredge up the mildest interest._

_I know better than to ask you if I am missed, but I do wonder. You never did tell me if anyone has taken my place._

_Yours, _

_Marissa_

_#_

_Dear Marissa,_

_Grief is a silent sapper of strength. It steals our joy and interest in the world. You have not lost your passion for curse-breaking, merely your father. No, not merely. I am not an expert in working through loss, but I suspect acknowledging you have lost someone may help. Keep him present in your thoughts when you are at leisure and focus on your work during work hours. Please especially focus when dealing with potentially cursed objects._

_Don't be daft, girl. You were-are-one of a kind. My evenings are empty._

_Severus_

_#_

_Dear Severus,_

_You are right, of course. The emptiness I feel hasn't come from nowhere. I've taken your advice about keeping my dad in my thoughts. I've put his picture on my dresser. Every morning on waking, I see his smiling face. He was so kind and loving. I also write him letters about my life. I tell him everything. It's helped me feel more connected to the world._

_Do you believe in life after death? I'm not sure I do. It's such a nice idea, but not very logical. I can never decide what I believe._

_Yours,_

_Marissa_

_#_

_Dear Marissa,_

_I fear the idea of an afterlife. I imagine those I've wrong are sitting in judgement of me, waiting. If there is one, I am not destined for eternal happiness. Because of what awaits me, I am more inclined to believe there is one. It would be my luck._

_Severus_

_#_

_Dear Severus,_

_You do make my heart ache so. I will simply have to make your days on earth filled with happiness._

_Yours, _

_Marissa_

_#_

_Dear Marissa,_

_Do not reach too high, my dear. Then you will not be disappointed._

_Severus_

_ #_

_Dear Severus,_

"_Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."_

_Marissa_

_#_

_Dear Marissa,_

_You are impossible._

_Fondly,_

_Severus_

_#_

_Dear Severus,_

_Last night, I went into the desert behind our encampment. I lay out and gazed at the stars. I'm always surprised at how many there are. Astronomy was not my best subject. I always get dizzy staring into the vast universe. I took off my robe and felt the stars on my skin, a billion kisses of light. I wish you had been there. I like your kisses. I would like to feel them on my body as I felt the stars._

_Love,_

_Marissa_

_#_

Severus closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He could see her in his mind's eye, her young, supple body stretched under the night sky. The stars lighting her skin. Her hair billowing around her.

How could he take someone like her? Take her youth and beauty and joy for himself? He didn't deserve it.

Moody, he stalked empty halls, itching for wayward students onto whom he could unleash his foul mood.

Instead, at the end of a staircase, he found Dumbledoor contemplating a painting of a dyad swimming under a moonlit sky.

"Ah, Severus. What brings you out on this fine night?"

"Nothing. I needed air."

The Headmaster turned and studied Severus for a moment. "I think tea is in order. Come."

He sighed and rolled his eyes but fell into step next to Dumbledore. They made it to his office without encountering anyone-it was late, but when had that every stopped students-and entered to find tea already waiting.

"Sit," Dumbledore suggested, taking a seat by the fire. He picked up the teapot and poured into each awaiting cup.

Severus sat and took the proffered up. He sipped it and scowled. Peppermint tea. How he loathed the flavor.

"You're in a mood tonight. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "There's a tenseness to you I've not seen since before you left last month. Did something happen?"

"No." He took another sip of tea. "Have you ever… known you should not have something. That it wasn't meant for you. But you let yourself… indulge anyway?"

Something like comprehension washed across Dumbledore's face. He leaned back in his chair and drank some tea. "I have."

Severus scowled. "I'm not talking about filching a treat I shouldn't have."

He chuckled. "Nor was I. There was a young man who was beautiful and brilliant. Sadly, though, he was all edges and lines. A fire that burned too hot. I knew I shouldn't, but I simply h ad to draw closer and let myself get burned.

"And did you?"

"Oh, yes. Quite badly." He shook his head. "But, oh, how lovely it was before." His eyes, far away with remembrance, sharpened. "What has you troubled?"

Severus let out a sharp sigh. "You are aware of my correspondence with Marissa Stevenson."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I am not sure I should continue."

"What's changed your mind?"

He gritted his teeth. "She… fancies… believes... " He cleared his throat. "Her feelings are such that I…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Dumbledore's smile was gentle and knowing. "She's falling in love with you?" he suggested.

He nodded stiffly.

"And you do not return her feelings?"

"What I feel is irrelevant," he snapped.

"What you feel is very relevant. I think it's the only relevant thing."

Severus rolled his eyes. "With my history…"

"That is what I believe is irrelevant. Assuming she knows."

"She does. But…"

"No. If she knows your past and accepts it, then all that matters is your feelings for her."

Severus's jaw ached from clenching. He shook his head. "I need to be responsible. I cannot let myself get in too deep."

"Why not?"

"You're the one who has said the Dark Lord will return. What if I need to spy for you again? She's Muggle born. How can I effectively do my work if…" He trailed off.

Dumbledore sighed. "That is a legitimate concern. But in asking you to be prepared, I never intended to stop you from living your life. We should not stop living on the basis of what might happen."

"You said he will return."

"And I am, on occasion, wrong. Severus. Ignore your head. What does your heart tell you?"

He closed his eyes. "That I am too old, too mean, and too damaged."

"That's your head talking. I'm asking after your heart. How do you feel?"

Frustrated, he squeezed his eyes tighter. "That I am… inordinately fond of her." He opened his eyes once more, neck hot and prickling.

Dumbledore beamed at him. "Then, my dear boy, you have your answer.

#

_Dear Marissa,_

_I understand that your apprenticeship continues through the summer, but I thought I might come and see you for a week or two. Would that be suitable?_

_Severus_

#

_Dear Severus,_

_I was so afraid you'd not write me back ever again. The night I wrote you, I admit, I was a touch tipsy. And not just on honey mead—I'm a light weight-but on the stars. I thought I might scare you away with my ever-growing regard. _

_I would be delighted if you came to visit. Although most days I work, I do have the weekend and evenings free. Perhaps we could rent a cottage one weekend and steal some time to ourselves._

_I am so happy I cannot contain it. I overflow so much, even the goblins smile._

_Love,_

_Marissa_


End file.
